Happily Never After
by THGFAN101
Summary: After the horrors of Day of Doom, the Cahills are far from recovery. Not only have they been neglected but, their lives are nothing but glass ready to be shattered. This is a series of one-shots about how the Cahills are living after the Vesper showdown. (ON HIATUS)


_A/N Hey everyone! This is a series of one-shots about how the Cahills are living after the Vesper showdown. _

_Basically, this is my way of ranting and expressing how I felt about DoD (which I wasn't pleased with). Originally, I was going to make this a hurt/comfort fanfic, but I decided that horror/angst is more fun to write. I just noticed that there's about 40 horror fics in this fandom! I agree with Gone, we need more! XD_

_This story is dedicated to all my wonderful friends in the Essence of Cahills. You guys are awesome!_

_And, I'd like to thank Amber and Darkening Faerie for helping me this story. They were extremely helpful._

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the 39 Clues series or any of the characters._

* * *

**Chapter One**

**~*~Ian~*~**

* * *

_"And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time."_

* * *

_Betrayed._

_Stupid._

_Lonely._

These words never left Ian Kabra's thoughts.

Ever since the tragic death of his sister and his mother, he wasn't himself. He was different.

Not different as in unique – different as in _unusual_.

Life pretty much continued on as though nothing happened. All the other Cahills have healed from the horrors of the Vesper showdown. Everyone had healed but Ian Kabra; the memory would never fade away. It would never leave him. It was an invisible scar, giving him nothing but pain. The past would haunt him for every waking moment of his life.

As much as he would hate to admit it, he knew the truth. Smooth, intelligent, handsome Ian Kabra was depressed.

Not only was he depressed, but he was irritated and extremely angry. He felt like he was volcano waiting to erupt.

_Betrayed._

His whole life was nothing but a joke. Everything he did, all the efforts and commitment he did, were for nothing. It was all because of _her._

Amy Hope Cahill.

The name brought an unpleasant feeling.

He couldn't believe her - the way she acted right after they defeated the Vespers. It was as if no one died - as if his sister didn't die! All he got from her was a hasty hug and a few empty words. No true comfort.

If Ian was being completely honest with himself, he didn't want the comfort. He just wanted someone to just be there for him. To help him through his troubled times. He had _no one_.

Ian couldn't believe that he actually felt _sorry _for the American nerd, Evan Tolliver. As much as he resented him for being with Amy, he still didn't deserve the terrible fate. Evan wasn't _even _a Cahill.

The fact that Amy wasn't that sad about Evan's death made Ian feels even sorrier for him. It was unlike Amy to do something as ridiculous as immediately going to Jake.

The Vespers may have gone, but they left a trace of heartlessness in the Cahill's heart.

_Stupid._

Why didn't he go off on his own when he had the chance? He didn't need the other Cahills to help him. He could've found the hostages on his own and prevented the madness from happening. After all, he was the one who cracked the code to the note he found at the DeOssie factory.

How could he have acted like that? Why didn't he keep a close eye on her? He could've saved his sister. He could've stopped her from doing that rash thing. He should've known the risk of the doomsday device and warned her about it. Never has the thought of Natalie rushing towards it come to his mind.

Ian's sweet – yet annoying – sister meant the world to him. He would do anything to get her back. Even give his life for her.

Natalie was only thirteen and hasn't experienced life yet. She never got the chance to live to fulfill her dream. She didn't get the chance to finally see the world the Cahills were thriving to obtain. She was unable to live in a peaceful world without Vespers and branch rivalries.

All that was left was her memory, slowly fading away.

_Lonely._

He lost everything and everyone. His sister was dead. His mother was dead. His own father had disappeared of the face of the earth. His only family, the one's he truly loved – _gone._ Despite the fact that the Cahills politely offered him a place to stay (which he accepted in his grief), he still felt neglected by everyone.

Ian couldn't stand the sympathy everyone had given him. It wasn't enough to remove the excruciating pain and never-ending misery. It didn't even _feel _real. No one understood how he felt - and they never would.

As Ian Kabra walked down the corridor of the Kabra Estate, every step brought bittersweet memories, each one much too unbearable to remember.

He was back in his home for only one reason – to collect his things before staying with the Cahills. There wasn't that much left for him to bring back. He refused to bring back anything that reminded him of his family. He would take his clothes and the things he couldn't live without. Then, he would lock everything else in a secure place.

The mansion was surprisingly empty. Their butler, Bickerduff, wasn't even there to welcome him home. Ian wondered if Isabel had something to do with this. She could've committed the crime while Ian was in the States. However, he dismissed the idea. _What's the point of assuming anything anymore? It's not like it's going to do anything helpful._

He was the only living soul around and he was glad. He wasn't in the mood of ordering people around.

He abruptly stopped walking once he saw the dining room. Everything was the same as always. The extremely long dinner table and the exquisite, crystal, Waterford chandelier was still there. As he stood at the doorway to the dining room, he felt a shiver down his spine.

_This was where it all began, _he thought. He remembered it very clearly; this was the night when he was going to visit _her._

Ian looked away while the memories of that fateful day flashed through his mind. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shut them out.

_Ian and Natalie we're eating dinner. Natalie sat silent and icy. Ian couldn't take Natalie's fuming anymore. She didn't approve of Ian going to see Amy and leaving her all alone._

_"Natalie," he began._

_"I can't believe you're going," she snapped. "I honestly can't believe that you are going to Boston to see the Cahills and that you are leaving me here alone. What am I supposed to do if she…if she…"_

_"What if she comes back here and it's just me?" she continued. "Didn't you think of that? Didn't you think of me at all?"_

_"She can't…she can't leave America, Natalie," he told her. "That would go against her parole. I made sure. I checked."_

_"Oh, right, because she's clearly so good at obeying the law," she said. "If you go, and if she comes here, I'll never forgive you." She stood up and stomped out of the dining room, slamming the door shut._

Ian cringed at the memory. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes but, refused to let them fall.

_Didn't you think of me at all?_

How could he act so…foolish? Natalie should have always been his number one concern. She should've always been the only person he cared for; the only person that should be on his mind. But since he was foolish in the past, he only cared deeply about her once she was kidnapped. Only then, did he realize how important she was to him.

The Cahill girl should've have never entered his life. Her beautiful, long reddish-brown hair and mesmerizing jade-green eyes meant nothing to him anymore. He missed the shy and stuttering girl, the girl who was kind and always willing to help others and the girl who noticed him.

The old Amy Cahill brought the good out of him. She made him realize the power of love. She made him realized the importance of caring for others.

Now she was just a cheat. She was someone who didn't value others, especially the ones who loved her, like her boyfriend, Evan. _And like me._

_How dare she go to that scoundrel? How could she choose the Rosenbloom boy over everyone else? _He found it revolting the way she looked at Jake. She looked at him as though nothing else in the world matters but him.

Although he did the right choice in the end and didn't end up going to Boston, he should have never gone through the trouble for someone like _her._

_If you go, and if she comes here, I'll never forgive you._

"I'm sorry Natalie," he whispered. "I hope you forgive me. I didn't want you to suffer that horrible fate."

Ian looked at his watch and noticed that it was a quarter until midnight. He had no idea how long he was sitting on the floor, but he knew he had to pack up. His flight was in a couple of hours and he couldn't afford to miss it.

He hoped that staying at the Cahills would help him recover. He knew that if he stayed here, he'll never get better. Everything reminded him of Natalie. Everything reminded him of his past. The wonderful life he had in the past was now nothing –nothing but a memory.

He sighed. Life was never going to be the same again.

* * *

Five minutes before midnight, Ian Kabra was in the gallery.

The Kabra's gallery was enormous. In the center of the room was a Waterford chandelier and a plethora of portraits hung side by side on the cream-colored walls. The floor was covered with soft, wool, beige-colored carpet. On the back the room stood a large window overlooking the beautiful garden.

Ian knew that he couldn't leave without one last look at the gallery. Portraits of his ancestors hung on the wall, painted by a professional. He walked farther into the room until he stopped dead on his tracks.

In front of him was large portrait of his family.

The portrait was painted two years ago, a month before the Clue Hunt started. His parents stood side by side, smiling. His father wore a fancy suit and he had the same silky black hair, tan skin and warm amber eyes. His mother looked young and as radiant as ever. She was wearing a beautiful black dress, silver jewelry and her black hair was styled as usual. At first, Ian couldn't recognize her. It was rare to see his mother giving a _real _smile.

In the picture, he and Natalie we're sitting next to each other on a white, velvet sofa. Natalie was wearing a purple dress while he was wearing a suit. Back then everything was different. They were enjoying their luxurious life.

They all looked…_happy. _Just by looking at the portrait, he could tell that they were a loving family. _If only things haven't changed. Who knew that everything would change in just two years?_

At this point, Ian couldn't keep the tears in any longer; they silently slid down his face.

The pain was unbearable. He was longing to see his family again. He wanted to have the comfort of having them. They were the only ones that truly mattered to him. Nothing else mattered anymore.

From a distance he heard a sound from the grandfather clock in the hall. The clock struck twelve. It was midnight.

The door swung shut. Ian turned around and rushed to the door. He tried to open the door, but the handle wouldn't budge. He was trapped.

_How could this happen? I'm the only one here!_

Ian suddenly felt a cold draft in the room. He looked at the window. It was closed shut.

_What is going on?_

Out of nowhere, the chandelier shattered and the room was pitch-black. The entire thing hit the floor with a thud. Bits and pieces of the glass flew towards him. He cried out in pain when he felt a shard of glass pierced in his shoulder. He had no doubt that blood was oozing out.

Despite the physical and emotional pain Ian was feeling, he was determined to find a way out of here. The last thing he wanted was to die in a gallery.

He felt completely blind. He couldn't see anything because it was too dark. He couldn't even see his own hand.

Ian placed a hand in his pockets and sighed in relief. He had his phone with him. He opened up the flashlight app and got a dim light coming from the phone. _At least I can partially see._

He shined the light on the floor and found the chandelier completely ruined. It would have to be replaced some other time.

Ian watched his steps and made it to the door safely. He took out his lock-picking tool and attempted to pick the lock.

"Ian," he heard a voice said from behind.

He turned around and shone the light in the space in front of him. Once he saw who spoke, he dropped his phone on the floor.

His heart was pounding. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Standing right in front of him was none other than his sister, Natalie.

"Hello brother," she said.

Natalie looked completely different. She was unusually pale and was completely transparent. She was wearing a white dress that flowed around her as she moved, giving the impression that she was gliding weightlessly across the room. Her eyes seemed to bore into him and she was smirking. There was something eerie about her that made the hair on the back of his neck stand.

Although he wouldn't admit it, he knew that what he was seeing was true.

His sister was a ghost.

Ian wanted to flee to safety. He wanted to get on his flight and never step foot in the mansion again. However, he wasn't able to. The presence of his sister was so enchanting and otherworldly that it made him remain motionless. The fact that he got to see his sister again lifted his spirit.

But he was also afraid. _Was she coming back to haunt me? Is this even real? _

Ian was never the type of person to believe in fate. He had always scoffed when he heard superstitions and stories about supernatural powers. He believed that those people we're wasting their time with nonsense.

"Nat-Natalie?" he asked, bewildered. "What happened to you?"

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Dear brother, have you forgotten that I am dead?"

"Of course not," he replied. "You're a –"

"Yes, I'm a ghost," she interrupted. "This isn't the time Ian. We must not keep stalling."

"What do you mean?"

"Hello dear," he heard someone say.

He turned around and gasped. Standing right in front of him was his mother.

"You're looking as healthy as ever," Isabel purred. "In fact, you're looking a little _too_ healthy."

Ian couldn't help but feel angry. He should be relieved and glad to see them again. But he didn't want to see them like _this. _They were ghosts –lifeless creatures.

Also, he couldn't believe that he gets to see his family _now. _Why couldn't they have appeared earlier? When he needed them the most?

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, not even bothering to keep the anger out of his voice. "Why now of all times? And what do you mean by I'm looking too healthy? For the past few days I have been nothing but miserable. I spend all my time thinking about the horrors and wishing that you didn't have to suffer a terrible fate! Why didn't you speak to me earlier? Why are you ghosts?"

"Settle down dear," Isabel told him. "I understand how devastated you must feel. You lost everyone because of the Cahills. You've been neglected by everyone because of the Cahills. I understand that you're feeling an unbelievable amount of anger. Am I right?"

"Yes," he muttered.

"Of course I'm right," she continued. "It's perfectly fine. Don't hide your emotions, it won't help you if your keeping your feelings bottled up inside."

"Ian," Natalie said. "We came now because we have a very important task for you to do. If you help us, then we can rest in peace. Are you willing to help us?"

"Where's father?" he asked, putting the question aside. "Why isn't he here?"

"Your father is still alive," Isabel responded.

"Do you know where I might find him?" he asked.

"He's in Peru," she replied. "You can visit him later. Right now, answer the question. Are you willing to help us? Our afterlives depend on this."

Ian sighed. He was unsure whether or not he should help them. He desperately wanted to help them, so he could make up for their deaths. He wanted to life the heavy burden he's been holding since the day they died.

On the other hand, Ian knew his mother really well. Her requests were never for the good of mankind. She always had other motives.

He looked at his sister. A wave of guilt washed over him. His beloved sister didn't deserve to die. If he died, then she wouldn't be acting the way he's acting. He knew that she would do anything for him.

"Alright," Ian said, giving in. "I'll do it."

"Perfect," Isabel and Natalie said in unison, their eyes glowing red.

* * *

Ian glanced at the vial in his hands. For the first time in days, he smiled.

Inside the vial was a poison he made upon his mother's instructions. It was a brilliant shade of green –jade to be exact. It was the same color as her eyes.

The poison consisted of many chemicals and one of the most poisonous plants in the world. The Belladonna, also known as Deadly Nightshade is a delicate dull purple flower. A single leaf of Belladonna is enough to kill a healthy adult, due to the high concentrations of alkaloid toxins which disrupts the nervous system. There was no doubt that it would do the same to her.

Ian was going to use the poison on Amy Cahill.

He took out a needle and filled it with poison. He then took placed the needle in a small rectangular box and placed in his pocket.

_Tonight, she will die. Tonight, everything would change –forever._

Once his plane landed at the Boston Logan International Airport, he quickly grabbed his suitcase and called a taxi. The taxi came in a matter of minutes and they drove towards the Cahill's mansion.

As they passed by many houses, buildings, and trees, Ian couldn't help but feel hesitant. He never killed someone before. He just wasn't that type of person. He wasn't like his mother who could smile at a person while they were on the verge of death.

As much as he resented Amy, he had second thoughts about this mission. He wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Maybe it was because memories from the Clue Hunt appeared in his mind.

_Korea. _

The name brought bittersweet memories. Spending time in Korea made him notice Amy Cahill and showed how he actually cared for someone other than himself. However, it also showed how cruel he could be –leaving the Cahills in a cave to die.

He looked out the window and for the second time that night he was unable to keep the memories out his mind.

_They were racing to the top of the mountain. Ian was in the lead and Amy was struggling to keep up. Eventually, they both made it to the top with Ian as the winner._

_"Not bad for a Cahill," he said, grinning._

_"You –y-y-you-" she stuttered. "C-c-can't-"_

_Ian was simply staring at her, finding her stutter amusing. But after a quick movement in his eyebrow and a flip of his head, everything changed._

_They stood on the rock simply staring at each other. _

_"You're…a Cahill, too," she said at last._

_"Touché."_

_His eyes didn't move a millimeter from hers. _

_They would've stayed like that if it wasn't for the Cahill boy's remark._

He scowled. Why did he have to remember that moment? At that time, it seemed like he had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted. He had nothing on his mind that he had to worry about –besides mother's approval. Compared to his troubles now, his life was perfect two years ago.

_Ian's knees buckled. The rock outcropping shook the ground, sending a spew of__ grayish dust that quickly billowed around them._

_Shielding his eyes, he spotted Amy standing by the figurine, which was now moving__ toward her. She was in shock, her backpack on the ground by her feet._

_"Get back!" he shouted._

_Ian pulled Amy away and threw her to the ground, landing on top of her. Gravel__ showered over his back, embedding into his hair and landing on the ground like a burst of applause._

_His second thought was that the shirt would be ruined. And this was the shock of it -__ that his first thought had not been about the shirt. Or the coin. Or himself._

_It had been about her._

_But that was not part of the plan. She existed for a purpose. She was a tactic, a__ stepping stone. She was..._

_"Lovely," he said._

_Amy was staring up at him, petrified, her eyelashes flecked with dust. Ian took her__ hand, which was knotted into a fist. "Y-y-you don't have to do that," she whispered._

_"Do what?" Ian asked._

_"Be sarcastic. Say things like 'lovely.' You saved my life. Th-thank you."_

_"My duty," he replied. He lowered his head and allowed his lips to brush hers. Just a__ bit._

_Stop, _he scolded. _Remember, she's nothing but trouble. She made me vulnerable and foolish. You have to do this for mum. For Natalie._

He was foolish to have fallen for her. If only he knew back then how Amy would have turned out. If he knew, he would have forgotten about her a long time ago.

Ian remembered what his mother and sister have told him back at the gallery. After their eyes turned red, they explained to him that Amy had to die. It was the only way the people who died during the Vesper showdown could rest in peace.

_"It's the only way you can feel better," his mother told him._

"We're here," the driver said, interrupting his thoughts.

He paid the driver and got out of the car. He approached the door and then knocked.

_Don't mess this up._

* * *

"Hi Ian," Amy greeted him.

"Hello Amy," he said, giving a forced smile. He walked inside and Amy shut the door behind him.

They were standing in the hallway in an awkward silence. He wasn't sure how to carry out the plan. He could've done it right there but, he was afraid to get caught. He didn't want anyone to witness the murder.

He placed a hand over his pocket and felt the small box containing the needle in there. At the moment, it felt like it weighed a ton.

_Enough, _he thought._ Quit worrying or you'll never be able to do it._

"I'm sorry," she told him.

Ian simply looked at her. He could see the pain in her eyes. Her eyes were red as though she has been recently crying.

He didn't buy it.

He was about to respond until _he_ walked into the hallway.

Jake Rosenbloom walked up to Amy and placed an arm around her. He then looked at Ian with anger in his eyes.

"What is he doing here?" Jake asked.

"What are _you _doing here?" he asked. He couldn't believe this _barbarian. _

All of a sudden he felt the same way as he was before –angry. He knew he had to carry out mother's orders or else he would be miserable for the rest of his life.

Sensing the tension in the room, Amy stepped in, "Jake, Ian is staying with us. And Ian, Jake is just visiting."

_It's now or never._

"Amy, may I speak with you?" He looked at Jake, and then added, "Privately?"

Jake scowled but Amy pretended not to notice. "Alright," she said. "I'll take you to the guest room."

Ian followed her to the guest room, leaving Jake back at the hallway. Once they arrived at the guest room, Ian locked the door behind him.

The room was small and bare. The only furniture in the room was a bed and a dresser. The walls were painted a beige color and the floor was covered in a blue carpet.

Amy turned towards him and said, "What's the matter? Are you feeling alright? Is everything okay?"

Ian placed a hand in his pocket, took out the small box and hid it behind him. With his other free hand, he removed the needle from the box. Fortunately, Amy didn't notice a thing.

"I'm still…recovering," he replied.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I know it's hard to lose someone you love. I felt the same way when Grace died. Don't worry, everything will be better."

"I know, but-"

"I understand, you're not ready to accept the fact that she's gone," she interrupted. "It takes time. Don't worry, I'm here for you."

_Lies, _he thought._ It's too late. You should've said this earlier; instead you gave me a hasty hug and a few empty words._

"Remember what I told you?" she continued. "Your sister is happy; she's with your mother. They're happy."

He was startled when he heard what she said. _They were happy? They were happy to be dead? How dare she? _

"You're wrong," he snapped.

"Excuse me?" she said, surprised by the tone of his voice.

"They are not happy!" he yelled. "They're dead. My family – the people I loved –_gone_. And it's all because of the Cahills."

"What are you talking about? I saw them! They looked happy that they're together."

"No, they're not! You Cahills we're too busy stalling instead of saving the hostages," he told her, his voice rising. "It's because of _you _they died. If you weren't too preoccupied with Jake, then none of this would've happened!" He walked towards her and stopped when he was a few inches away.

"What happened to you?" she asked, startled to see his amber eyes glowing red.

"You!" he yelled, plunging the needle into her shoulder. He took the needle out once all the poison went into her system.

In a matter of seconds, the poison went into effect. A shock expression appeared on her face as she collapsed on the ground.

* * *

As he looked down at the lifeless body beneath him, his warm amber eyes glowed red.

He smirked. The excruciating pain and misery that has been haunting him for the past few days –disappeared. He finally felt satisfied that he got his revenge. He would no longer be neglected by anyone. _He _was in control.

_The old saying was true_, Ian thought.

Cahills always live happily _never _after.

* * *

_So, what do you think? Reviews and/or constructive criticism are always welcomed! _

_I think that most of you will think I have a problem, actually an obsession with writing Ian first (if you read my story, Reality, you'll know what I mean). He's my favourite character which is why I love to write about him. And torture him. :D_

_Next one-shot will be posted soon! Hint: It's going to be about a girl. _

_Check out my other stories if you haven't already:_

_-Reality_

_-Wonderstruck _

_-Some other one-shots that are on my profile. :)_


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